


It Started On The Ice

by HumanSentinel1912



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Chatting & Messaging, Eventual Romance, Friends to Lovers, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, Ice Skating, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith is blind as a bat, Keith is emo af, Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Lance (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Not saying no, Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, alternate universe- skating, bad at writing smut, idk what else to put, lance is a pretty boy, music is a plot element, not sure about smut, praying this is good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-04-21 19:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14291718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumanSentinel1912/pseuds/HumanSentinel1912
Summary: Lance McClain has just been dumped for someone far beneath him in every sense of the word. Now, his relationship wasn't secret, but being that all his secrets are revealed, he doesn't know how to go by it. Of course, everyone supports him and loves him regardless, but everything's different now. Things are known he'd rather no one knew. Now, add that on top of the fact that he's an international skater looking to make his Grand Prix debut, nothing surrounding him will be left alone and unscathed.Keith Kogane is your typical emo guy who believes Fall Out Boy and Panic! are the shit (which in all right, they are) who likes to be alone. Granted, he has friends and such, but he has a hard time excepting love, and when confronted with it, he basically turns the other way. He's never been one for showing off or being in the spotlight, preferring the shadows instead.When a shining prince skates his way into Keiths life, and a moody, aesthetic dork kinda just appears in Lance's, they don't know how to react; should they hate each other? Or like them?





	1. Mr. Independent and the Dynamic Duo

**Author's Note:**

> The summary may change if the story develops differently. Just heads up. XD

"Mad world beats outside our hearts. Times of need we are apart… Under stars, we are alone.” 

Tap tap beat, beat, beat, beat, another beat. Tap beat, beat…

What am I doing?

Why am I here?

There were so many things Keith could be doing right now- productive things, like studying or reading one of those new manuals his professor gave him. He could be catching up on some desperately needed sleep, or maybe even started some of his laundry pile that, at the moment, practically rivals Mount Everest, next to his bed- so many things he could be doing, and yet he wasn't. Instead, here he is, lying in a dark field, and listening to emo music. If Hot Topic and Tumblr ever decided have a child, he’d be it. So, why, of all things, did he decide to come here? To this random place in the absolute middle of nowhere?

There was nothing of interest in his little clearing; nothing except tall grasses, the large, guardian trees, and a veil of darkness. It wasn’t a park- it wasn’t even a touristy vantage point like in the oldies where high schoolers would go for a more risqué type of fun. So why? There was literally no reason for him to be there. No reason for him to make that hour long drive, a majority of the time spent whizzing in and out of the lanes, attempting to dodge the fast-lived locals and the batshit crazy yellow cabs.

And yet, here he was, wasting his life away. If Shiro were here, he would say something along the lines of, "Keith, you're not wasting your life away, you're just trying to process it all," and then he’d would take a moments break before saying something sappy that would make Keith smile, and then they’d go on in a beaming stupor. BUT, Shiro isn't here right now, so please leave a messa- nope, not gonna happen. Probably not the best time to disturb Shiro anyways. 

He was away for an ice hockey game up in Albany, leaving Keith to his own devices for the weekend. Never really a good thing, but hey, he was a big boy, so surely- probably- hopefully- he could manage to be good for a couple of days by himself. Besides, it was already Sunday, and he's still alive! He didn't burn down the house the house this time (it was one time, but that one time will live in infamy), and besides, Shiro should be on his way back from upstate already- he drove himself- so he should be good. Nothing can go too wrong in such short amount of time. Right?

Keith picked up his phone, which lied next to him in the grass, and sighed in frustration when he realized it was dead. Shouldn’t be surprised since it's always like this, his phone dropping dead halfway through the day, going from 100% charge to 85%, then 35%, and then back to black (REALLY good song, highly recommend on a bad day- oh shut it!). If Shiro texted him, which he certainly /most likely/ did, Keith wouldn't know, which was just lovely… Knowing how Shiro operates, he’s probably at the 'starting to fucking panic' stage since silence and Keith, like water and electricity, don't mix well, or AT ALL for that matter. It was a joke back in high school, that if Keith's middle name wasn't Akira, it would have to be Trouble since that's always what he seems to be in; in trouble. He never wanted to be! Honest! People just don't appreciate those who are straightforward and don't bullshit the truh and- yeah...

No fucks given... 

That’s probably the problem. Definitely. Most likely.

He laid there, across the grass for a little longer, despite his brain telling him that he should really find a phone to let Shiro know he was alright. Instead, he just continued taking in all there was to take in; the beautiful, twinkling stars, the smell of the warm evening dew, and the sound of the rustling tree branches that danced in the wind, along with the heavy bassed emo music that was pouring out from his motorcycle speakers.

He should really get going-

"You can set yourself on fire, ba dada dot dot dot!"

… a- one more. 

The song ended minutes later as all do, and that was finally whe he decided to gather his belongings and begins the long trek back to the city. Lift up he seat, take out the jacket, throw the crap in, close the seat and repeat daily for best- no. None of that today. Putting on his helmet and revving up the engine, not lonly after he was speeding along the highway back to civilization.

Long story short, he almost got into a car accident because of some idiot on the highway, and Shiro smacked him in the back of the head when he got back, before drawing him into one of his large hugs /of death/. Not bad all things considered: the time, his unintentional silent treatment, etc. Could have been a lot worse.

 

\------

 

"I don't like this, Lance." Hunk said off to the side, barely audible to Lance as he was focusing in, honing into the ice- his body- his skates, preparing for his next attempt. His attacks were clean, he knew that, but for some reason, the landings never stuck. He couldn't nail the landings no matter how hard he tried, and it was bothering him.

Breath in, breath out, then he made the leap of faith and-

"Lance, you're gonna get hurt! Something's gonna go wrong." 

He flubbed it up again. Mierda.

Why couldn't he land it? The jump done normally was easy- well, not easy, but he always managed to land it, so why does raising his arms make it so much harder? He didn't understand.

"It's because you're taking the normal way of doing the jump, and changing it."

Slowly, he turned himself over, and sighed, looking up at the grey, exposed beams, and the vaulted ceiling, remembering the conversation he had with a friend several days ago. He was practicing in secret, outside of the normal practice time. He tried and tried again nonstop, wanting to land without his arms for balance. In the end, he managed to succeed only once all because he landed with two feet instead of one, like he was suppose to.

It aggravated him to no end, but after taking a sip of water and thinking about it, a new angle appeared: he didn't do it right, but he still landed it.

It was a start.

Anyway, he was in the middle of his last attempt when the doors slammed open and the hockey team came roaring out from the locker room like a stampede of asshats.  Focus lost- down he went bewildered.

 _IT'S STILL MY TIME! I SIGNED UP FOR IT AT THE ASS CRACK OF DAWN!_  Focused, in the zone, then bam! Pain! He almost went off on them, but lucky for them, Shiro stopped him, pulled him aside, and calmed him down. Good thing too, he was five seconds from going Cuban on all their asses.

A shallow sigh left his lips, prior to he standing up again. His body stung from the remnant cold and wet ice, but one he began prepping for his next attempt, it all went away. Adrenaline racing, he could do more. He wasn't done trying yet. He wasn't going to give up. He'd already gone so far, gave up so much- he was going to land this jump if it was the last thing he'd do. His senior debut- it was going to be one to remember. 

Speeding up, changing directions several times, forwards, backwards, forwards, backwards, getting comfortable with the inner blade position he had to skate in. Okay, you can do this. In came a deep, cool breath in, and up went his hands, along with the rest of him.

 

1 spin

 

2 spins

 

3 spins

 

4 spins

 

And down he came, landing two-footed, and over-rotated, but still standing, and in one piece.

"Oh yeah! Did you see that Hunk!" He exclaimed, rushing over to the stands where he sat, doing something on his laptop. If it wasn't homework, then he was probably messaging one of his classmates about one of their various projects.

"Lance, you're going to hurt yourself if you keep up, and then Coran is going to ki-!" Hunk began to protest as soon as Lance was safely out of the jump and skating towards him at full speed. Lance burst out laughing at the uproar that was Hunk. He meant well, but Lance was capable of determining when he was nearing his limits- when too much was indeed, too much.

"Hunk, stop worrying worry wart! I'm fine. Nothing's going to go wro-"

One moment up and flying, the next, down in a wipeout, face flush with the ice, butt sticking straight up into the air. He looked like a puppy who tripped when trying to run, and it made him laugh harder. With Hunk, even stupid things seem funny.

"See! It's a sign! And I'm not being a worry wart!" Hunk shot up, crying aloud. There wasn't a clank against the concrete so it was safe to say the laptop was gently placed on the side, before Hunk's acrobatic display; priorities, am I right?

"Dude, I ju- just slipped on some water!" He retorted, laughing his ass off whilst trying to stand up from his rather ungraceful face plant onto the ice. Even to this day, Lance still found falling funny, even if it did hurt every now and then, but- pain is fact of life, so why hate it? "And you totally are!"

Hunk deadpanned,  giving an over the top, fake, angry scoff, sitting down again, reattaching himself to his laptop. This view looked familiar.

"Oh, don't give me that face Hunk," Lance whined playfully, leaning on the banister separating ice from concrete, shaking his butt a little like a dog would when excited. Did his tail control him, or did he control his tail? The world may never know.

"Hmph, I'm angry at you!" 

Deadpan, round two, this time it was Lance's turn.

"Hunk, you don't have an angry bone in your body."

"I do too! You just haven't seen it." Hunk snaps back.

Like the five-year-olds they really, both young men entered into a war of whining, saying both their names back and forth like a broken record, getting louder with each round. Kinda like that game where you start off saying 'penis' softly, over and over again until someone chickens out, except completely different, and ten times more annoying. Eventually, Hunk crosses his arms, conceding their little game of grabass with a large 'hmph,' whipping his head away from Lance like a child having a temper tantrum.

"Don't you 'hmph' me, Hunk." Lance said with a small chuckle, hopping over the banister between them, taking the open seat down on the wooden bench, Hunk must have "accidentally" left open for him. Awh! He actually does care!

"Or what?" Hunk asks, still looking away.

"I'll make you stop," Lance says, a deviously sly smile growing on his face. The change was definitely audible, the nuances being clear as day. Hunk, visibly scared, a shiver having run up through his entire body, slowly turned to see what Lance was talking about.

"H-how?" Hunk asks shakily.

"With these!" Lance says, that creepy, villainous smile blinding. He holds up his hands, and instantly Hunk sighs in relief. Lance just lost all his power over him. Seriously, what were they? Kids? Tickling is so yesterday!

Hunk can help but let the small tug of his lips show. Now it was his turn to laugh and Lance's turn to be afraid, oh so afraid.

"Lance, 'make me' and I'll post the video I made of you face planting into the ice, edited with "Like a Boss" each time you fall."

"WHAT?" Lance jumped up as if his ass on fire. That would ruin him! "You wouldn't do that to little ol' me!"

"Without a question." Hunk chuckled. 

"Hunk! Why you gotta be so rude?" 

"First off, just- no Lance. That meme's dead." Hunk began, lifting but one eye to meet Lance's bewilderment. 'Memes didn't just die! THEY LIVE ON IN SPIRIT, WAITING TO BE REBORN,' or so Lance would have loved to have protest, but Hunk made sure not to give him the time to do so. He didn't want to go down that road again. Especially when their time in the rink was almost up. The Hockey team was due to start soon, and Lance needed to land at least one jump cleanly to make all this worth it.  All the bandaids and ice, all the countless hours they could have used for sleep or studying, they both needed one jump to succeed. Any would do, as long as it was a quad. Just something to show for all the work- something to show so Coran could get off Lance’s ass about not practicing what he was supposed to. ‘Coran this’- ‘Coran that,’ Ugh! If Hunk had to listen to Lance complain about Coran one more time-

"And also, what else am I suppose to do when all I'm doing is watching you flubbing your jumps?" Hunk said quickly, cracking out his best smile in the process.

"Well, I don't see you trying," Lance grumbled to himself, glaring at Hunk from out of the corner of his eye.  All he was doing was sitting there, looking pretty while he did all the work. You try doing this shit, and then, when you come crying to me in the end, I'll just laugh my ass off and tell 'Told you so!' 

"Ha! If I tried skating, I'd look like a beached whale." Hunk chuckled, imagining the scene presented to him.

"You would not! You would rock a Spread Eagle!" Lance said, waving his hand in denial.

Lance pictured Hunk in a nice, golden two-piece costume, almost like that of a Shah of India get up, gliding around the rink like a graceful swan.  He would be a force to be reckoned with! Hunk, on the other hand, just imagined Lance face planting into the ice, with himself transplanted into Lance's place. A whale indeed, plus, he began thinking about how he'd have to watch what he eats, and worry about how flexible he was and yadda yadda- never. Never in a million years! Food is love, food is life! 

"I like myself too much to submit to that torture."

Lance tilted his head, confused at what Hunk meant by that, be after a moment of watching Hunk mumble different foods Lance knew he loved, the syntax became clear. Lance just chuckled at his foaming friend, before standing up again and hopping back onto the ice, landing a little off, but managing to keep his balance, before turning back to face Hunk who was, at the moment, daydreaming of apple pie with ice cream and caramel on top. That sounded delicious, but he had to be good. The first cup was coming up soon, and he couldn't pig out now. Maybe afterward, if he manages silver, or even gold!

_Skate America, I'm ready for you!_

Lance, ready and pumped up a little, was ready to get back to work. 

"Hey! Hey, listen! Hey, listen!" He said, high pitched and annoying, just like a little blue fairy from a game he and Hunk used to play when they were kids. That fairy, so many horrible, hilarious memories. He'd have to go home and pick up his console soon. They needed to play again.

 "Ugh! Lance, how old are you again?" Hunk groans, remember too well the annoying creature. Lance smiled.

 "Not important Hunk. Now tell me how to land this freakin' jump so we can hit Arby's."

"Oh my gosh! Yes!" Hunk cried, visually as pumped as Lance was feeling at that moment.  "Try taking the residual energy from the step sequence and use it to propel you into the jump. To be able to land the jump with your arms raised, you need to have the energy to balance yourself without them."

Food is always a good motivator, even for a health nut like him. Tonight, he was going to be a little bad, and he didn't care. At least it wasn't TV Dinners or something, but not important. Take the residual energy, huh… Wait!

"What do you think I've been doing!" Lance screamed as he pushed away from the wall and began building up enough speed to get into the step sequence from his short program, and then the jump he wanted to change. For the qualifying rounds, the Quad Loop (now changed to be a Quad Lutz because Coran wanted to up the difficulty for more points), along with a triple axel and other various elements were a necessity in order to synch first place there, but now, he was about to face off with the big leagues; the best of the best in all the Senior division. Lance needed to up his game if he wanted to make it past the first round.

"Just try it!" Hunk yelled back, no longer sitting in his spot, but standing, leaning directly against the banister, cupping his hands around his mouth to project better.

Fine, let's try this bitch! He thought, finally feeling confident enough in his speed to begin the step sequence. So many twists and turns for a step sequence that lasted only, what? 10 seconds? So much to do, so little time. Be beautiful, be graceful, spin this way, move that way, this was his favorite part of the program. Reason being, at this point, he knew it was almost over! His stamina was quite good from years of various training techniques: running, swimming, the normal stuff, but he still wasn't quite use to the program yet. After he nails this jump, he needs to get back to running them, especially if he wants to get a good presentation score.

Finishing the step sequence, he did that little turn he loved, raising his free leg to bolster his balance, preparing for those damn jumps. If there was one thing he could do right always, it was being enchanting. Was it his Latin blood? Or was it the ribbon dancing? Probably both, but if asked, he'd only admit the first part. He could have some fun without revealing some of his… more risqué talents.

The jump was so close. Listening to the music playing in his mind, he counted from 3 to 1, and when that keynote played, he went for it. Hands raising from behind his back, to above his head, cupping together as to not throw him out of the jump, his heart stopped. 

 

1 spin…

 

2 spins…

 

3 spins…

 

4 spins…

 

"Holy shit!"


	2. "Kid's these days..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter is brought to you by....
> 
> Professor Zarkon.
> 
> Professor Zarkon is the head of the Science department and honestly doesn't get paid enough to deal with all the brats he has the deal with, but then again, he kind of brought it on himself, acting like he's everything and all that. In reality, he's just like every teacher; ignored! XD
> 
> (Not really, but still, it seems like that a lot of the time, at least to the teachers themselves.)
> 
> Anyway, this chapter isn't as long as the last one, and I did that purposely since there's a lot of texting dialogue and stuff. 
> 
> I've been sitting on this chapter for over a month now, and I think it's perfect, but do let me know if there's any problems or confusion.
> 
> *Side Note*
> 
> Finals week is approaching fast, so hopefully, I'll still get out Chapter 3 on time. If not, know that I have it done and ready to be posted, I just want to get Chapter 4 written before then. Okay? 
> 
> Bye!
> 
> And Enjoy!

Group: **Emo Brother’s United**

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96>

Status: Now Online

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Psst! What time are you coming home? Mom wants to know.

 

<That_One_Time>

Status: Now Online

 

<That_One_Time> *sigh* What time does she want me home tonight?

  

<GuyLiner_Zone96> 7:30

<GuyLiner_Zone96> She just wants to make sure you're okay, Keith.

<GuyLiner_Zone96> You know how she gets when you start disappearing.

  

<That_One_Time> Disappearing? Me?

<That_One_Time> When have I ever disappeared?

  

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Keith.

 

<That_One_Time> Recently?

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Does Friday night sound familiar? Getting home after hours on your bike? Sneaking through your window, wearing nothing but the /light/ clothing on your back.

 

<That_One_Time> I was seeing

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> You're lucky you didn't come back with pneumonia.

 

<That_One_Time> *sleeping.

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Keith, (;¬_¬)

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Your body pillow isn't as convincing as you think.

  

<That_One_Time> I don't know what you're talking about.

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Keith. You didn't hit the garage button hard enough.

 

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy>

Status: Now Online

 

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy> Also

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy> You woke me up when you accidentally walked into the wall in the hallway.

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Hahaha

 

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy> Hey jerk! You bailed on me again!

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> About that...

  

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy> （ノ○Д○）ノ＝

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> heh…

<GuyLiner_Zone96> How are you?

  

<That_One_Time> Matt? Who dropped the ball and let you in?

<That_One_Time> And sorry about that… (>﹏<)

  

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy>  Σ(￣ロ￣lll)

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy>  Rude!

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Keith, be nice!

 

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy>  And no problem

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> I did, genius.

 

<That_One_Time> This was supposed to be our chat! 

<That_One_Time> OUR chat Shiro!

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Keith, it's still our chat.

 

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy>  Don't worry, Keith. You can still talk about your cock fetish with Shiro. I don't mind. Hehehehe

  

<That_One_Time> Σ(･口･) 

<That_One_Time> Matt!

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Hahahahaha! Katie tells you too much.

 

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy> Not like she hides anything. She tells me the best shit every day, lemme tell you! I could incarerate you with how much I know.

  

<That_One_Time>

Status: Now Offline

  

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy> Well, I guess I scared him away.

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> He'll be back later.

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Still on for tonight?

 

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy> I'll be over around 7 with Katie if Keith doesn’t hate her at the moment.

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> They "hate" each other every other week.

 

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy> Too true. Tell your mom we can't wait!

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy> I'll even grab Keith by his mullet if I see him.

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Careful though, his legs are designated lethal weapons by the US Army Corp.

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96>

Status: Now Offline

 

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy> Lol. Noted.

 

<Matt_Nye_The_Science_Guy>

Status: Now Offline

 

\------

 

How long would he have to sit here, listening to an old fart babbling on and on about basic shit he already knew? Keith wanted out. There were so many things, better things he could be doing instead of wasting his time sitting there, focusing more on staying awake than on anything else. Yes, he wished he could be doing something else in class. Maybe, like, actually learning, instead of wasting however much money he was paying for this damn thing. Said no one ever.

A waste for sure. Why the school hadn't canned this guy was literally beyond him. The guy was so boring! Literally watching paint dry would be more entertaining and mildly more interesting than listening to this dinosaur drone on and on about different types of hardware from a bygone era. He taught nothing useful. Most the time he just sits at his stupid, decrepit desk and makes them, that is, his students, read the PowerPoints he made them print out and bring to class. How does that constitute as teaching? The world may never know.

Today's lesson was no different from normal, albeit, one of those rare days where he actually did the preaching instead of making his followers do it. However, despite this change, the preaching fell upon deft ears as he rambled on about the Floppy Disk to no one who cared. To Keith, he already put two and two together. It made sense why Professor was talking about that crap; they are just as ancient as he is. Why the old bastard thought it was a necessity to delve into every little insignificant detail, he wouldn't even begin to comprehend, but… what could he do? Not show up? Talk about a waste of money! Might as well get the credit for a class he doesn't have to do anything for, except show up.

The class was meant to teach them about how past technologies influence the future, and yet so far, all they've learned is how crappy the old crap is. First, it was Microfiche, and now, after what felt like weeks of repeating the same crap over and over, he finally moved on to something a little less ancient; Floppy Disks! How long has he even been in this class? He knew his calendar said around a week and a half, but it didn't feel like it. Instead, it felt like YEARS. Wait- if it's only been a week or so, he might still be able to drop the class... Oh, what he would give to drop.

Keith should have brought a cheese grater with him to class like he originally wanted to. He almost got of the house too! But Shiro saw it and stopped him before he could escape the dungeon that was their house. All he wanted was to feel something other than complete and utter boredom! Was that so much to ask for?

Probably.

_"Keith, you can't bring a cheese grater to class."_

_"Why not? Culinary courses use them!"_  

_"First off, you're not in any culinary class, unless you earned how to burn everything from them; and second, the professors don't make their students bring cheese graters."_

_"You never kn-"_

_"Allura said, and I quote: 'Um- there's an entire rack of them that don't get used. Why?'"_

  _"That's who you've been texting nonstop!?"_  

_"Dude, it was five minutes and she was asking for the homework in Poli. Sci."_

_"Likely story."_

_"Dude, whatever you're thinking, it's all in your mind."_

Ugh… He thought, remembering what Shiro had said to him earlier. He literally begged Shiro to let him keep the actual cheese grater with him. He was desperate; on the edge between boredom and- well, boredom.

Maybe- maybe nobody would notice if he silently collected all his things and ninja rolled out the back door of the auditorium/ classroom/ lecture hall? Not that it really mattered to Keith since he was about to bounce, but the room seriously looked like shit. How could you subject students to this? It looked like a crappy auditorium or a really shitty choir room that was the love child of janitor's closet and something barely nice.

It was dilapidated and old, with a quaint, musky odor that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't chase it away with even the heaviest of air fresheners, cologne, and perfumes combined. Lucky for him, he scouted out the room prior to the start of the class.

The seat he luckily claimed as his own was right next to an outside vent, having the perfect balance between being able to see the actual board, and being able to breathe without catching cancer from breathing in moldy asbestos.

/That was probably a little bit overkill, but the way some people left that classroom- it would make even the most conservative person want to give money to the 'fix the classroom fund'. Last he heard, it was just shy of $100 or so… those who doubt the poor college student life, boy are they in for a surprise./

A hushed sighed escaped Keith's weary body as it slowly fell victim to the plague of fatigue that threatened him. He had to get out of there or risk becoming one with his desk, which wouldn't be a problem if he hadn't chosen to sit on an aisle. Despite it being the aisle against the wall and not the main artery used on the daily, he wouldn't want to be caught resting during that rare occasion when the professor made his rounds around the classroom. It happened not too long ago to some hot guy with brown hair got caught. He sat somewhere on the other side of the classroom, and it was just wrong time, wrong place- no one dares to sleep in this class after "the incident."

Oh, the lore was real in this class.

Anyway, risking all he holds dear, he began to pull in all the items spread out before him: a pen, binder, his laptop, white out tape, etc, caution being the name of the game. Bringing any attention to himself could only lead to bad things. They always did. Best thing he could do was just act normal but in the quietest manner possible. With luck, he'd pass through those beautiful doors of freedom without anything stopping him.

Maybe after his daring escape, he could give ol' Shiro a little visit and watch him practice with the team. Didn't seem so bad, being that when he pulled this off, he'd have time to literally kill before Shiro would be ready to drive them home. Watching them practice was always interesting, anyways. Not that he really understood it in all it's complexities. Although, he kinda should at this point, but what could he say? He never was focused on the rules of the game. Instead, he was more focused on the Drools. Yes, the Drools. HOW CAN SO MANY PERFECT GUYS END UP ON ONE TEAM!? LIKE SERIOUSLY!?

Probably better not to ask why, and just thank whatever rainbow god was looking over him and the team. Just bask in the spectacle that is the hockey team. Yes, just enjoy them all...

Thank you, Shiro, for being good at something.

 

\------

 

Shiro sneezed, having stopped halfway with his left skate laces so he wouldn't fuck them up.

"Bless you!" Someone called from the other end of the locker room. Shiro took a moment before answering to shake off the remnants of the sneeze. 

"Thanks!"

 

\------

 

When the coast was clear and Professor Dinosaur was facing the blackboard, carving his ancient lessons into it, he made his move. The guy had to be blind if he couldn't see all the sleeping and extremely bored young people that made up the class, no doubt.

As he quietly ran up the steps, no one seemed to glance up at him as he made his move. Probably since people ran out of the class daily. It was kind of an unwritten rule around the joint, that you don't say anything to those who try to run. Can't get in trouble for aiding and abetting if you're 100% not involved. It not entirely uncommon for people to take their freedom into their own hands, anyway. At least in this class. Walking into this class, everyone knew that whatever they did that wasn't learning, they were taking their lives into their hands. Can't get caught, can't ever get caught. Few ever did, but those who were, never- seen or heard from- again. That might have been funny if it was a joke, but ask anyone, and they’d be deadly serious when they told you those who were caught vanished. 

He didn’t want to become one of the vanished.

Slowly, he crept up the stairs turned forward, facing the Professor. Never take your eyes off him, for he turns around randomly at times. When that happens, hiding was your only chance of survival, for he would bite your head off if he found you. Twice, Keith saw him turn back to address the bored constituency about random shit no one cared about. And both times he was lucky enough to hide in plain sight; bent over, looking into his beat-up backpack, pretending to be looking for something.

To make it look like he wasn’t the same person, he tied up his hair, put on fake glasses, and took off his jacket after the first time just in case it might happen again; he was glad he did. The tyrant looked directly at him- their eyes even met- and he said nothing! Absofucking nothing! That made him ecstatic. Literally, he could feel the cold sweat forming as his eyes were on him, and when they finally left- he took such a deep breath, he didn't even know he stopped breathing. Slowly, after regaining his composure, he began his creep here and there, hiding ducking and hiding between the seats and his bored peers. A warm, fuzzy feeling began to form as he did so. He was getting good at this! He was going to get out of this hell hole!

He stopped once again as the professor, again, for the millionth time turned around. It's like he knew Keith was trying to run and was trying to catch him in the act! A couple more moments passed before he turned back towards the board, but he wasn't going to risk it just yet. It's a trick! A ploy! 

_I WON'T FALL FOR YOUR DEVIOUS TRICKS, OLD MAN!_

“Dude, are you waiting for an invitation? Run.”

 _Huh?_  

Keith looked up from his bag, dumbfounded to the voice who had spoken to him. King Henry was probably surveilling the classroom again.

_Clever girl._

_(But- he's not a girl?)_

_(shhh... references.)_

He looked back towards the front of the room and saw otherwise. Oh… 

“Hey, are you hard of hearing or something?” The guy asked, completely at a loss with why Keith was just sitting there. It was all very comical, Keith being so careful, stalking up from his seat down below, then posing as to not get caught in attempting to flee, and now, just freezing up like a deer caught in headlights. Well, at least he was cute to the guy.

"Excuse m- mind your business." Keith bit back venomously after having blinked away the confusion. What was this guy's problem? Was being cautious a crime or something? If he was bothering him, then the guy should just not pay attention to him!

Keith glared at the overly perky guy before him. His everything annoyed him; that stupidly saccharine smirk; perfect jaw; blindingly bright hazel eyes; every little thing about this guy rubbed him the wrong way. Worse of all, the guy chuckled to Keith's obvious hostility. "Well, you're my business at the moment."

_Wathuajhstkjizsdfkjsufjgjshfn. What!?_

Keith's anger vanished as quickly as it set in, replaced by a burning, fiery blush. _OH MY- DID HE JUST LAUGH!? HE BETTER NOT HAVE! Keep calm, Keith. You're almost out! Don't let this quiznak get in your way._

"Wha- You-“ Keith tried to speak, but failed quite quickly. He paused, and focused in on what he wanted to say before speaking again: “Instead of wasting your parent's money, why don’t you pay attention to King Henry over there like the good student you pretend to be, and let me be.”

"And why should I do that, Mullethead?" He asked, giving him a grin he honestly didn't know how to decipher. It made him feel- violated? Is that the right word to describe it? Who knows, he surely didn't.

More importantly, though, did he just say that? Seriously? How old is this guy? Twelve? So this is the reason why people say "kids these days..." Gotcha.

"Just pay attention, quiznak." He said right before taking off again, up the stairs again. He was almost at the top!

 

 

“Wha- You pay attention!” The guy yelled aloud, causing all eyes to turn straight towards them. He wasn’t thinking! Keith’s eyes widened at the racket this guy was creating.

 _Shit, shit, shit_ , _shit!_  

He regretted ever speaking. He knew this would happen. Everything that can go wrong in this class, DOES go wrong. Just run, you can make! Just run, and he started to. The guy just went on, unaware of the unwanted attention they were both getting.

“At least I’m-“

Until the professor spoke up.

 

\------

 

Group **: Lance is a Pretty Boy**

 

<Skating_Lioness>

Status: Now Online

 

<Skating_Lioness> SOMEONE SAVE ME!

 

<Smol_Child7281>

Status: Now Online

 

<Smol_Child7281> What did you do now?

 

<Skating_Lioness> Why is it always my fault?

<Skating_Lioness> I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! IT WAS ALL MULLET’S FAULT!

 

<Smol_Child7281> Don't make me remind you Lance. 

<Smol_Child7281> Mullet?

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon>

Status: Now Online

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> People still have Mullets? Maybe Keith's starting a trend...

 

<Skating_Lioness> IDK, BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT! BECAUSE OF HIM, I’M STU

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> Stu?

 

<Skating_Lioness> *stuck*

<Skating_Lioness> Sorry, dropped my phone. I’m still in detention now. Trying not to get caught.

 

<Smol_Child7281> You probably had it coming, tbh.

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> What did you do this time?

 

<Skating_Lioness> Σ(￣ロ￣lll)

<Skating_Lioness> WHY IS IT ALWAYS MY FAULT!?

<Skating_Lioness> You guys are supposed to be on my side! MY SIDE!

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> I feel bad for Mr./ Mrs. Mullet.

 

<Smol_Child7281> You probably poked the bear, Lance.

 

<Skating_Lioness> Way to be politically correct.

<Skating_Lioness> AND I DID NO SUCH THING!

<Skating_Lioness> HE JUST WENT QUIZNAK ON ME FOR NO REASON!

 

<Smol_Child7281> Quiznak? You've been hanging around Coran again, haven't you?

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96>

Status: Now Online

 

<Skating_Lioness> He's a chill dude, my guy. 

 

 <Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> SHIRO’S ON!

 

<Smol_Child7281> Hey Shiro! Wassup?

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Hey everyone.

 

<Skating_Lioness> MY HERO! HELP ME SHIROWAN-KENOBI YOU’RE MY ONLY HOPE!

<Skating_Lioness> These Jawas ain’t helping at all.

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> DID YOU JUSTS CALL ME A JAWA!?

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Hahahahaha. What did you do this time, Lance?

 

<Smol_Child7281> Can I be something better than a Jawa? Like, maybe an Ewok?

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> NOT THE POINT HUNK!

 

<Skating_Lioness> Seriously... WHY IS IT I’M ALWAYS THE ONE TO CAUSE SOMETHING!?

 

<Smol_Child7281> Because it’s you.

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> OMFG! YOU INSTIGATE

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> E

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> V

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> E

 

<Skating_Lioness> OMG!

<Skating_Lioness> STOP

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> R

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> Y

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> T

 

<Smol_Child7281> ROTFLMAO

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> H

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> I

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> HAHAHAHA

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> N

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> G

 

 <GuyLiner_Zone96> Lance, have you heard of a girl named ‘Censor?’ You two should meet.

  

<Skating_Lioness> YOU GUYD ARE SO MEAN!

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> BURN!!!

 

<Smol_Child7281> I can feel the pain from here.

 

<Skating_Lioness> *GUYS

  

<Smol_Child7281> I have burn cream if you need.

 

 <Skating_Lioness> I hate you all

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Lance

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> No you don’t, ya LOVE us!

 

<Smol_Child7281> What else is new? XD

 

<Skating_Lioness>

Status: Offline

 

<Smol_Child7281> Lance?

 

 

 

<Smol_Child7281> Lance? Come on, come back.

 

 

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> Seriously? You know we’re joking. We love you, stop being a brat.

 

 

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Lance,*sigh* where you at?

 

 

<Smol_Child7281> Lance? Are you okay!

<Smol_Child7281> LANCE!

<Smol_Child7281> ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW!

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96> Calm down Hunk

 

<Skating_Lioness>

Status: Now Online

 

 <Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> Sure took your time! Hunk was about to make me hack a satellite to find you.

  

<Smol_Child7281> PIDGE!

<Smol_Child7281> I WAS NOT!

 

<Skating_Lioness> Hello, this is Professor Zarkon. Lance can’t come to the phone right now.

 

<Smol_Child7281> Whoops…

  

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> And why’s that, Professor Bly?

 

<Skating_Lioness> Because, I took his phone.

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> Figures.

 

<Skating_Lioness> Mrs. Holt, you have been officially put on notice for inappropriate behavior on campus grounds.

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> I'm literally the furthest place away from campus, but whatever.

 

<Skating_Lioness> Doesn't matter.

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> It will when this chat deletes itself, and then I bring up charges, but what can you do.

 

<Skating_Lioness> Pictures are worth a thousand words, Ms. Holt

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> Yes they do, Prof. Good thing I have plenty as well. ^_^

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon> See you tomorrow!

 

<Holt_Mrs.Pig_eon>

Status: Offline

 

<Skating_Lioness> I really hate that girl sometimes.

<Skating_Lioness> Mr. Shirogane, I suggest you get back to your practice before coach "finds" out you're slacking.

<Skating_Lioness> And Mr. Garret, shouldn’t you be studying?

  

<Smol_Child7281>

Status: Offline 

 

<GuyLiner_Zone96>

Status: Offline

 

<Skating_Lioness> Thought so.

 

<Skating_Lioness>

Status: Offline


	3. You Are The Reason...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait! Honestly, I've kinda been in a Minecraft phase lately (I kinda go in between different phases, whether it be playing Minecraft, or playing Sims, watching anime, or writing). That being said, I recently started reading fanfictions more (a lot of subscriptions built up, lmao) and I got a little inspired again! 
> 
> Atm, I'm in between phases, so I'm doing a little bit of everything. Now, add that on top of college, work, Comic-Con, and the impending holidays, idk how much time I'll get to writing, but there should be at least one more installment by the end of the year. Once Chatper 4 is written, Chapter 5 should follow quickly since I have that partially written, UNLESS, I decided to add another chapter in between them. 
> 
> ANYWAY!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this new chapter!

 

Bzzzzzz…

 

Hmmmm?

He moans slightly into his pillow, shifting his head ever so slightly as to be able to "look" at his phone. Of course, permitting he can see past his- luxurious flowing locks. He should really get a haircut. Maybe get one of those new haircuts with the short sides and fluffy top?

But cold head! Noooooo… No likey!

Lazily, he pushes his hair behind his ear to get a better look - it stopped. Maybe he just made it up. Maybe the building owner started work early again. He was kind enough to rush finishing his own apartment, he's probably trying to get back on schedule. He'll have to send him something as thanks; Siri, set a reminder-

Oh, wait.

It's in power saving mode... 

Oh well. Back to sleep then. He shifts back into that comfortable position he was in earlier, head beneath the pillow (to block out the rest of the world) right leg slight bent with the matching foot in the crook of his other leg where foot meets leg; add that too the room's lovely temperature of sixty seven and you get the perfect sleeping arrangement... 

Glorious sleep…

 …

 

Bzzzzzzzzzz…

 

This- better be a dream. A mother. Fucking. Dream.

No one would be calling him at this early, right? It's all in his head. That's right, he went to bed late last night, and accidentally woke up hours before he should have. His brain was just playing tricks on him again.

Yeah…

That's- right…

 

Bzzzzz-

 

“UGH!" He screamed into his mattress before throwing his head up from beneath it. Forearms extended, he glares at the stupid little device the media has convinced us we all need for survival.

"OH MY GOD! I GET THE FRICKEN MESSAGE ALREADY!” It buzzed again as he was shifting to a more comfortable, sitting position. He can't even arrange his blankets without the damn thing going off!? Damnnnn. Ugh!

To bad his phone didn't know people have been working tirelessly the last couple of weeks or so to get the building up to snuffs. With that, a lot of people have been walking back and worth on the scaffolding outside his window. It would be kinda embarrassing to give them a good flashing at not even… what time is it?

His phone says 8:57.

Fuck, that's early! Phone, get yo shit together, please!

 

...

 

Hmmmm _... I should really get some curtains for those things now that I'm thinking about it. Maybe later. Now, who's interrupted my- lovely- sleep..._

“Pidge?" Annnnnd a quick yawn interruption. "You better have a good reason to be calling me at 9 o’clock in the morning.” God, could he sound anymore tired and monotone? Probably. Definitely.

His eyes fought to stay open as he tried to perk himself up enough to stay awake. He could really go for some coffee… but the machine isn't set up yet! Damn it! Why couldn't he just keep his old one? It was still in good shape. It just needed to be cleaned a little! That new stupid thing is so complicated; he wanted just coffee! COFFEE! No special flavorings or finishes, just plain ol' black beans boiled in water with the tiniest bit of sugar. Coffee!

“Can’t I gracing you with my presence be-“ She replied, all perky and jittery- she's definitely had her two extra espresso shot fix… That girl should just have an IV drip coffee into her bloodstream. It would be so much easier. 

Funny though, he didn't even have to look at the caller ID to know who it was. That- probably says something… whatever. He's too tired to care right now.

“No.”

“What!? Rude!”

He was just being honest. At 9 am, he doesn't want to see anything but the back of his eyelids.

“You have 5 seconds.” A muffled yawn escaped his lips whilst he spoke.

A loud bang from outside cut it short as he jumped a little, jolting his head to look out the windows. That idiot must have been fooling around on the scaffolding or something. Oooh, drama! Now some older guy is yelling at him. It's like reality TV!

Great… Have you're argument elsewhere, please? People are trying to sleep here… Specifically, Keith.

“Keith!” She whines into his ear, causing him to jolt his ear away from the phone. 

_Why are you so loud this morning!? You're never this hyper this early!_

“Pidge!"

"Keith!"

"PIDGE! Seriously, I'm going to hang up now.”

Come back later. Like, Later later!

Later, as in after he's showered and eaten, played his guitar until his hands are sore as fuck, and gone shopping despite the fact he can barely carry anything. Even Pidge would draw the line if she saw that he's been eating crap ramen for the last two weeks because he's been too tired with just having moved in, going to classes, and generally, learning how the to traverse the city.

Like, seriously! Why are there so many subways? How do people not get lost on the way to work or something! It's bizarre! Truth be told, however, the only reason why he didn't like them so far was that last week he ended up uptown twice. That, and asking strangers for help is just plain out awkward. Everyone always looks like they've got somewhere to go and when you add Keith to the mix, it's just adding an anxious, emo ball of nerves onto the shit show that is his learning curve. Not fun.

 

…

 

He should really get the imported crap ramen. At least the fallacy of good ramen is somewhat still alive. Supposedly. Shit ramen will always be shit ramen.

“Wow! I come over to see how my best friend is doing, and this is how I'm treated?” He rolled his eyes hearing her over-the-top acting. He’s known her long enough to see right through all her little tricks and schemes. Although- she’s gotten better over the years at trying to conceal them, he’ll give her that much. “I even got you your regular! Some friend.”

Shit. She didn’t. 

She didn't get him that sacred bean juice, did she!?

He was conflicted; to sleep, or to get the coffee - that is the question. Oh how good it sounds! Wait, she said he got his regular, so maybe that includes… a muffin! REAL FOOD!

  _Note to self, don't let Pidge know how excited you are for coffee and a muffin._  

She would never let him live that down. She doesn't need more ammunition than she already has; middle school and high school were rough for him… but terrific for Pidge and her finding her… niche in life. Mr. Iverson, thank you for your 'contributions' to society, but anything you say now can and will be used against you in a court of law. His mouth was just a little too loose about hacking in Pidge's class, and now here they are, a master hacker and a /now/ poor, gay, emo musician.

To say 'people saw this coming' would be a complete and utter lie.

_I hate you Pidge…_

He sighs softly and decides to give in to her nagging. “I’ll be down in- whenever. No telling how long it’ll take to drag my corpse to the door.”

At his own pace, of course. Besides, he needs to evict the bird that's made it's home in his hair. The knots were real. 

The struggles of having long hair…

“But Keith! You need to be DEAD to be a corpse.” She quipped cheerfully. He just scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“Never said it was my body I was dragging.”

_I’ll make sure to hide your body really well so no one finds you, coffee or not._

He chuckled slightly, leaning back into his bed, his blanket falling just a little bit to sit right on his hips. No one is safe when Keith is in zombie mode. Not even Shiro, although his punishments tend to be less severe. BUT, who’s really keeping track of it all?

 

…

 

Probably Pidge.

“Keith Akira Kogane! Did you hire a hu-MAN last night!”

 Had he been drinking something, he would have spit it out as fast as he could swallow it. Luckily, he wasn't, so choking on air it is. Lovely.

“Remind me to- to kill you later, will you?” He gasped, trying to regain his breath after his coughing fit. Although, did he really seem that desperate to Pidge? Or was it she just knew how to get under his skin really well…

Probably a little bit of both. After all, he couldn't remember the last time he had an 'interaction' with the male persuasion if you get the drift. 

“Nope. You LOVE me Keith, you know it.”

_Not at this moment, I don’t Minnie Mouse. I swear I will find your high-pitched ass and bury you!_

“Bye Pidge.” He says with a roll of his eyes. If he hangs up now, maybe he’ll still be able to fall back asleep, giving that he isn’t too awake now. Please let the be the case- he would do anything for that. Going to bed late and then getting up early the next day- it just doesn’t work! Especially when pillows just- call out with their cool, soft, invitations. And the mattress, cold from the A/c being on all night, with it's sweet, smooth, seductive voice saying, 'come back to me baby, you know you want to!'

Yes… He does want to. So he shall! YES! HE WILL BE KNOWN AS-  THE BED CONQUEROR!

_And I feel la la la la! And I feel la la la la! La lala lala lalahh!_

If he's not too tired later, maybe he'll try to figure it out - that song - on the piano. Playing is kinda hard when the dang thing's been practically MIA for two weeks... Damn movers.

It might sound good on his cello though… It's- been a little longer than he cared to admit.

Too long.

“Okay then! Hope you like all your shit on the curb then!”

_Say what now?_

A quick knock on his window made him jolt back up to sitting on the bed. Looking at it, he saw a man, nicely built and with a slight five o'clock shadow, staring at him with thumbs up. Keith smiled back and waved, winking slightly, earning a slight grin from the guy before he went back to work.

_OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD! WHO THE- IF I FUCKING FIND OUT WHO YOU ARE, YOU'RE DEAD!_

“Wha! What bullshit are you spouting out now Pidge!?” That probably sounded a lot harsher than it meant to but after that little… encounter, he wanted to punch something. That, or just hide, but- if the movers are finally here- 

Fuck! 

Please don't be mad Pidge, he didn't mean to shout!

“Uhhhhh… don't be mad but the- uh, moving company- finally, uh, arrived.” She finally said a few moments later, her voice considerably dull when in comparison to what it once was only minutes before. She definitely noticed his change in tone… crap.

“WHAT!?" 

_NOW? SERIOUSLY!? TALK ABOUT TIMING!_

Jumping out of bed, making sure to take the blanket with him, he runs around the room trying his best to collect all his discarded clothes from the night before. He seriously needs to do laundry. It wouldn't take long since he only has three outfits worth of clothing on him. Take two or three days they said! Quick and easy they said! BUT NO! The driver got lost somehow!

Thank god they're here though. Once the movers do their job, he can finally stop re-wearing his underwear!

Speaking of which… Where are they?

Maybe… nope. That's where his hair tie is. At least his hair won't be bouncing around.

"Gottagonow bye!" She squealed, before hanging up.

"Waitwaitwait! STALL THEM!"

Hopefully she heard him! 

Clothes mostly on, he runs out of his apartment, down the stairs to the first floor and out the door. Normally, he'd have taken the newly installed elevator, buuuuut, it's still too slow for his liking. Why didn't they email him or something!? What shitty business tactics. He'd hate to be in the PR and customer service department. They must be put through hell and back. 

By the time he's on the porch stairs facing the street, his hair is already in a messy bun and a thin layer of sweat has already begun forming on his forehead. Why did he grab his red Pokéball sweatshirt of all things? And why's it so hot out!? Seriously! It feels like he walked out into an oven!

So bright… and- blurry?

Crap. He forgot to grab his glasses from the nightstand in his rush to get down here.

Although seeing distance is a little rough, he finds the moving van with some ease. Kinda hard not to notice when the truck is bright white with bold red semi-script letters saying 'Antique Family Movers.'

 _Family, my foot. I wouldn't trust them to move mom's horrible cooking from the island to the kitchen table. Made the wrong turn at Albuquerque - how the actual fuck!?_  

It isn't hard to see the moving van and the burly guys starting to unload his stuff onto the sidewalk. Talk about disrespectful! They're already two weeks late, the least they can do is try to butter him up so he doesn't leave a horrible review on top of everything else.

At least it's just the boxes so far… If they put, for example, his piano on the ground, then he'd have to kill every last one of them, slowly; methodically. If they even think about doing that to his baby, he'll make them all wish today never came.

"Excuse me young sir, but you seem to be blocking the entrance-"  

_Oh, whoops. Sorry sir!_

He really shouldn't be hogging the stairs. They really are quite narrow, as was the style when the building was built. Maybe this is a good opportunity to meeting some of the neighbors since he already seems to have stepped into it. At least the guy doesn't sound like a douche. Time to put on a smile and make a good impression.

"Oh, sorry! I was excited because my movers finally arrived, I-"

"With yo' fat ass!" Another voice yelled, far more energetic and jittery than the first voice.

"Excuse m-!?" His eyes jolted away from the movers towards the source of the insult; if the guy wanted a fight, oh boy was he gonna get it! Keith was in the perfect mood for a showdown! No way he's gonna let that asshole get away with insulting him, not toda- 

"PIDGE!?"

"Hey. What's up?"

 

* * *

 

 

_Phew… Finally, they’re gone._

Hours and hours of moving things upstairs and down; large boxes, small boxes, long boxes and short… Put those along the window; put those along the brick wall. Hours of Keith saying ’Please don't touch my baby’ and ‘B- be careful! Those boxes are fragile!’ 

At the end of the day, his Yelp review would be ‘they were a train wreck. Wouldn't trust them with even walking.’ The guy in charge didn’t know how to do his job, the workers apparently didn’t know how to read despite each box having been CLEARLY labeled, he basically just stood in the kitchen directing the entire show until they finally got all his stuff out of that crummy van and up the stairs. They were nice though, to say the least. All smiling and happy go lucky…

 Perhaps a little too much…

They were like Pidge had been before she came crashing down from her caffeine rush; a little bouncy and extremely energetic. How they had as much energy as they did will forever be a mystery. Just looking at them made him tired, and he wasn't even then one moving the boxes. Not like he had much energy to start with but… managing so many people and trying to keep Hunk and Pidge entertained and out of the way…

His head was still slightly spinning from it all, and he could feel a light migraine coming on, but at least he had his stuff back- he had his beloved piano and his guitar back. All his books, all his pictures and polaroids- he had everything. And the best part was, nothing was broken. 

Thank god…

Everything was okay. Everything was here now, in boxes no less but- at least it was all here. And /they/ were finally gone. To say he wasn't anxious the entire time would be an understatement. Being a kid of the system, he learned quickly not to trust strangers. Pidge coming into his life was that one pesky little anomaly no one could have expected…

A small smile formed on his lips as he picked up a bowl wrapped in newspaper from the box it sat in.

He wouldn't want it any other way.

He would deny it if anyone saw it- deny it completely. After all, he's Keith. Not some happy fool enamored with all the little things life has to offer. Nope! People like that he could rant on for hours about how much he hated them. Loud and always obnoxious, ugh! Annoying! Nope, he was the silent brooder who occasionally smiled once every blue moon or so, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Keith… ou… insane." 

"Huh?"

"You're insane." Pidge reiterates again for him to hear from her place on his bed, all cross-legged and leaning against the wall. God knows what she was doing on her computer this time, either a report which would be odd for the second week of classes, but not unheard of /or/ she's hacking a satellite. She has been complaining of poor cell reception recently. Wouldn’t it just be easier to build one?

While she plunks away on her keyboard, Hunk sits next to her with a box of clothes in his lap, taking the garments inside it and, depending on the item, putting them on hangers or neatly folding them. He didn’t have to, and Keith did tell him this, but Hunk was like _‘I got it. It’s cool. I don’t mind helping since you know Pidge sure won’t.’_  

He was right about that, not that Keith expected Pidge to help. He wasn’t planning on asking for it either.

He placed down the last glass he had in his hand, free from bubble wrap and a “very healthy amount of tape,” tilting his head slightly as he looked in their general direction.

"Why's that?"

“Ughhhh. Seriously dude?” Pidge just shakes her head, not bothering to stop her plunking. 

“What?” 

_Why am I “insane”?_

All he’s doing is standing there, unpacking boxes. What’s so insane about that? Unless he wants to live in a pile of boxes, he kinda has to empty them. That’s usually what normal people do, right?

"Keith,” this time Hunk spoke, standing up from his spot.

Pidge’s eyes followed him as he walked over to where Keith stood in the kitchen. Pidge always did know how to choose her friends. Although he doesn’t really know Hunk all that well, he’s not incredibly put off by that fact. It’s probably that disarming smile and aura that screams ‘I’m a floof.’

“She thinks your insane because you bought a crazy expensive apartment that no college student would ever be able to afford.”

 _Well, that’s true._ He'll give her that much…

“Also, she doesn’t trust you financially for some reason.”

_Annnd, why doesn’t that surprise me._

“Come on Pidge, it was for Shiro’s 21 birthday and graduation. I had to go big.” 

_It was just a three-week-long Mediterranean cruise. Nothing too ridiculous…_

(With all the trimmings. He saved up a year’s worth of paychecks to be able to afford it _._ Shiro had fun, so it was all worth it, although he was flat broke for a /long/ while.)

“KEITH! THE POINT IS, PEOPLE LIKE US CAN'T AFFORD THIS! For you to be able to afford this place, you'll have to work at least two part-time jobs and even then, you'll still be broke! I'm not feeding your sorry ass every night!" 

Keith just rolls his eyes and chuckles a little bit, removing the empty box from the island where he stood, and just dropping it next to it. 

_Worrywart._

If only she knew… but that's not important. Knowing her though, she'll find out everything eventually. Maybe he should just show her his bank account now; save her the trouble of looking…

But where's the fun in that?

He takes a quick look around the place. Past Hunk and Pidge, past his piano in the corner by the naked bookshelves, past his TV sitting on the cluttered TV console, and just focus on all the boxes left to be opened. There's no way he's going to get all the boxes unpacked tonight… Even if Pidge flew down from her digital nest and decided to help, there's no way. Unless they stay up all night, but he doesn't have nearly enough coffee for that shit. Maybe- he should just unpack the bare necessities… and worry about figuring out the rest tomorrow… 

The kitchen's basically unpacked - at least, everything he needs for at the moment, Hunk literally unpacked his entire wardrobe - all one box - and the bathroom's been set up since he moved in. 

He's got everything he really needs. So… what doesn't he need? 

"You need money Keith." Hunk said as he pulled up to the other side of the island. For not knowing this guy very well, they really hit it off. Even if he is… sounding a little like Pidge right now. "How else can you afford to eat? You're not living off crap, imported ramen! NOT IF I CAN HELP IT!"

_Hey! That's a valid life choice if someone really wants it!_

Hunk… just calm down... He bought some ice cream, take it! TAKE. IT.

Pidge probably had the same idea, since she's deep into the freezer, head, body, and all. OR, she's trying to cool off in there since her laptop is breathing like crazy. It's sitting on top of his pillow across the room, which in itself probably isn't the best place to leave it, and it's still relatively loud. Either way, she's the closest to the ice cream so she should get it.

He turns around and gives her a slight nod towards the shelf, and she nods after a slight grunt. SUCCESS! She got the hint.

"Can't I?" He jests playfully, turning back towards Hunk, earning a slight smack from Pidge in the process. HEY!

"Where are the spoons, Keith?" Pidge asks after climbing out of the freezer and rejoining the land of 'normal' people.

Yeah right, 'normal'. 

"NO KEITH! CRAP RAMEN IS JUST- NOOO!" Hunk whined, slamming his hands down onto the countertop for emphasis. Don’t break the countertops, please! They’re brand new! “I'm coming over and cooking for you Keith!”

“That’s alright Hunk. I can cook.” Keith rolled his eyes, but pat Hunk on the shoulder for reassurance. “I use to cook a lot more before school became a priority-”

_Note to self, don't talk food with Hunk if you wanna live._

"and Pidge - they’re in the drawer next to the stove." He answered Pidge, pointing in the utensil drawer's general direction. It's over there somewhere. She's a rocket scientist, she'll find it. Probably.

"Yeah, crap ramen.” She snorted behind him. It wasn’t a secret that he was a good cook, though Pidge would never admit it. “Seriously though, it has nothing on the real thing. I've raised you better than to eat that junk."

"Last time I checked, you’re not my mother." He chuckled a little. He low-key thanked god she wasn’t; life would be… too, uh, interesting. Yes, interesting! And loud, for his taste. Occasionally it's fine- when he's in the mood, but all the time- nope. That's just too much. He needs some time to be his normal self, and not a shrieking banshee. 

(Pidge: You wanna go, bro!?) 

Keith jolts a little as she almost rips off the drawer and then slams it once more once she has the spoons. Seriously? Those are brand new… and she knew it. Pidge deliberately turned towards him and gave him that shit eating smile he's hated since day one, and he just mimics it, deadpanning after a moment or two. Had he known she was planning on being a homewrecker, he would have kicked her out the door hours ago. Hunk can stay, he's at least nice. 

Hunk doesn't judge. He's our **frieeeeeeend**.

_Oh my god, I'm turning normal!_

_This bitch!_  

 _What are you doing now?_ She's opening all the cabinets now looking for what? He already had bowls laid out. Does she see them though…

"Yeah, but I’ve been looking after you since your poor gay ass showed at my doo- rstep…" She says, continuing to looking for whatever, sticking her head into the cabinet, then out, looking at both of them as she moved to the next. Eventually, she'll run out of cabinets and realize he whatever she's looking for isn't- there…

"KEITH! YOU'VE FAILED ME FOR THE LAST TIME!"

"… Huh," was all Keith could get out as he spun around to see what her latest outburst had been about. Crap…

"IT'S NOT EVEN IMPORTED!" And… here comes her inner banshee! Say 'Hi' to Ms. Hyde!

She had found the, quote on quote, "stash." Welp, it was nice knowing yall because god knows she won't forgive him this time. Plus, the holes being burned into the back of his head by another certain someone were threatening death just as much as the little gremlin in front of him was.

Damn you Shiro.

Okay, okay… play this cool. Maybe you can still get out of this in two or three of pieces; one whole piece is definitely not happening. Ummmmm… what could he say?

"Oh, I forgot that was in there."

"Keeeeith!"

Okay… good start. Uh… Shiro did buy it after all… So let's blame him! Hopefully they'll buy it, though, knowing Shiro, it's believable. Kinda?

"Calm down, I didn't buy it. You found Shiro's attempt of a shit joke."

"Go figure." Pidge retorted with a quick little snort that he honestly should have flicked her in the nose for, but as quickly as she did it, she was out of his reach on the other side of the counter by Hunk.

_Coward!_

And with that thought, he just shook his head a little with a smirk, cleaning up the mess of scattered newspapers bubble wrap strewn across the kitchen. That moment when you wish for an easy access trash chute, and then you realize you have to lug all these boxes downstairs at one point. Maybe he can solicit an unsuspecting Hunk and Pidge to take some downstairs when they leave…

That is if they leave.

It took a moment for all of them to get their bowls heaping with just the right amounts of ice cream, and once they were all happy with their amounts, they sat around the couch for some much needed relaxing. Screw more unpacking. The rest of the boxes could wait until the morning. It’s not like they hadn’t been slaves to them since this morning or anything. After all the work they did today, it was clear that they all needed a rest. 

Though, it didn’t last long. They still had yet decided on what they wanted to watch.

After a couple of minutes of bickering, they ended up playing rock-paper-scissors like the sophisticated, mature adults college has made them out to be... /yeah right/. Whoever thought that is a moron. Just saying.

Pidge won easily, no surprise there, and Not quietly either. Usually, it’s the sore loser that makes the loudest noise after a game; this fact doesn’t hold true when Pidge is fired up about something and wins. But really, did they care about how specific personality traits have been observed to influence the way you choose your hand? Not really. They just wanted to watch something this year!

She chose a show they all apparently liked, Voltron - to "be fair", quoting her exact words. Of course, after her boasting was done. Ten minutes later.

Not exactly a show that puts you to sleep, but still, it's better than her math documentaries. For sure, they were waiting for her to put that one of those things on as punishment for some misdeed they probably did like, a month ago. That, or she just wanted to see them suffer. They’re convinced she’s truly a sadist, but- neither one of them would ever ask Pidge that. They’re not dumb enough to poke the bear.

Usually.

It wasn't until several episodes in and a lot of missing space dad action that Keith heard the first light snores. Soft and airy, mixed in with occasional, obscure mumbling. Hunk and Pidge fell asleep. Fake fans! Both of them! But- at least they looked happy. Hunk with his head all the way back and mouth wide open, Pidge snuggling into a pillow and drooling like a smol child, Keith couldn't help but smile a little. They were too adorable.

Puffy cheeks…

Adorable light snores…

Barely audible breaths, in and out... 

Clockwork.

Getting up from his spot slowly, and as quietly as he could, Keith grabbed two light blankets from out of the linen closet. He carefully draped them over them, removing Pidge's glasses in the process, placing them on the coffee table before cleaning up quickly and turning off the TV.

Honestly though, it kind of figures; Pidge and Hunk. In all of her craziness, Pidge really is one of the most loving people he knows. After all, their first time meeting- oh god!

They were only 10!

Damn, he's old!

Anyway, he had just transferred into the class, and being so, he was quiet and kept everyone at arm's length since he was, well, the "new kid". That being said, one random day he was just sitting in the back of the classroom by himself, doodling something (he can't remember what), and she just randomly came up to him and just started talking to him out of nowhere! One moment there was silence, then the next, bam! "DO YOU BELIEVE IN MOTHMAN!?"

Needless to say, after a couple months of talking and eventually beginning to hang out, they had their first fight. In the midst of it, she told him he was stupid and the reason she even started talking to him was that she couldn't stand seeing him so lonely and sad. Being even more stubborn, as he was 10 years old, he denied it, but they came to the first of many accords. Ever since that day, she's had his back and he's had hers.

He's glad though. Glad that in his absence, she was able to find others just as warm and kind- people who could make her happy. God knows he couldn't at that time…

_You've moved on, Keith. You're finally breathing again._

_Remember…_

_She loves you. Shiro loves you. Mom loves you. Dad loves you. Cosmo loves you._

_You are not alone._

"I know…" He whispered softly to himself. A soft gaze falls on the couch where those two beautiful people gently slept. He can't help but smirk once again as his hand reaches for the last lamp illuminating the room. 

He wouldn't trade this moment for the world…

Ever.

And with that, the last light was extinguished.

 

 

 

"And I love them."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! It would be really awesome if you could leave a comment (however brief) and just let me know how I'm doing. I'm a little rusty with writing, so just lemme know whatever you're thinking! 
> 
> Helpful feedback is ALWAYS appreciated!
> 
> Bye, for now, luvs!
> 
> Dez.


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